


A Sense of Paranoia

by gubby3



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Assistant Coran, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Murder, Captain Allura, F/F, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Police Offer Hunk, Police Officer Pidge, Psychologist Shiro, Sorreh, Stalking, and so much angst, got some fluff, got some grief, idk how to tag, police officer keith, why do i make all my babies suffer????, why do i make shiro suffer so mUCH
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-04 08:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10986846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gubby3/pseuds/gubby3
Summary: "There was once a time Keith thought he could live without fear.  One day, he assumed that inhibition and fright would falter, once he possessed the power to control them.  He is a man of dignity with a sensitive heart, yet trepidation plagues his current path and shadows his once deep, proud footsteps."As a detective, Keith has learned how to handle witnessing the innocent bear trauma.  He had never prepared to manage himself as a victim, and he suddenly finds himself in that position once his boyfriend becomes a target for a madman.  Shiro has been there for Keith through every bad day, every horror, and every nightmare.  Now, they both must adapt to not only being alone, but surviving alone.





	1. The Game Ends & The Hunt Begins

**Author's Note:**

> I got this random idea about a month ago and decided to roll with it! xD I hope you enjoy, and please express your thoughts on it if you'd like. Comments always mean a lot to me, and I love hearing readers' interpretations! Let me know if you spot any typos too, I try my best to catch them all but some always manage to slip by unnoticed >n>

Shadows fleeted in and out of sight. They decorated the whining wooden floors, serving as sporadic pathways for the unembodied footsteps, so dark that they were barely discernible from the dancing blackness. Goosebumps formed along his skin in tandem with sweat and tears. The fear he felt couldn't be denied as it seeped out of his soul, congealing in every possible way. He tried to step away from the approaching feet but found that to be a pointless endeavor, whether there was a wall to his back or fright had tied him in place, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that fleeing was impossible. Chomping on the inside of his cheek, he called out to the approaching figure, who was still concealed by the bleak mist.

"Who are you?" Blood spilled into his mouth, yet he only chewed harder when no reply was given. The bitter taste stained his tongue, leaving him dizzy and even more nauseous. "What do you want from me?"

While his words were no longer ignored, he suddenly wished they had been. Laughter boomed through the room and echoed into his ears. It grew in volume just as it did in cruelty, the windows crashing open like a response to their master's call. His eyes shot towards them, hardly noting the vicious pouring rain over the consistently growing cackles. In the reflection of the glass he noticed a shimmer, a terrifying glint of a knife gripped in a hand whose owner frustratingly continued to remain hidden. 

With another step forward, a piece of the looming mass could be seen. Bright red eyes glowed in contrast with the dark environment. Teeth from a sardonic smile revealed themselves, mixing with the burning glare of the raised knife. Thunder shouted in the distance, and in that moment, it was just too much stimulation to bear: those sinister eyes, that evil grin, the knife like a guillotine ready to bring certain death, and the catastrophic storm acting as a symphony to it all. The blade surged downwards and, in an instant, removed his right arm with a single slice. 

Keith screamed until his voice was too hoarse to go on, all while still asleep. The sudden movement from the bed sheets drove the other occupant to consciousness, who immediately focused on waking him.

“Keith, you’re having a nightmare! Come to me, please, I’m here,” Shiro used to whisper to his boyfriend when these first started happening. He’d meant to ease Keith out of the horrific dreams with subtle words and soft touches. Now, Shiro is much less naive after these constant traumatizing incidents, so he shouts as loudly as his struggling love and shakes him for as long as it takes to be greeted with Keith’s eyes. He clutches at the smaller man’s thrashing shoulder, his own hand trembling while he hopes his grip serves as a foundation for Keith, a way back to reality. “You’re strong, I know you can fight this!”

Shiro lost count long ago: Whether this is the twentieth time or the thousandth, Keith’s night terrors have never gotten easier. If tears pricked at Shiro’s eyes he didn’t acknowledge them. His boyfriend needs him, that’s the sole thought on his mind every time. With another shake of his shoulder, Keith wakes with a start. His back springs upward as he cradles his heaving chest. Before Keith can properly suck in a full breath, his hands shoot towards his nose after his forward motion directed him right into Shiro, who has been lingering above. He scrunches his eyes shut and groans into his palms. 

A hiss comes from outside the protective space Keith has created with his hands. Once the throbbing begins to subside, he peeks through the openings between his fingers to see his boyfriend rubbing his reddened temple. Keith winces at the sight and allows his eyes to lower with his hands, ashamed of what he’s done. He focuses on the maroon sheets beneath him, grounding his mind as he recounts the nightmare. Prepping his lips for an apology, Keith smothers down each flaring fiber of pride within him. Regardless, a disappointed moan slips out instead before he can reel it in. As it was nearly silent Shiro seems to go unaware of it. Keith refuses to lift his gaze in order to find out though, sickness pooling into his stomach at the pained expression he’s certain his boyfriend has on. He never would’ve guessed to hear Shiro’s laugh.

“Who needs coffee when there’s morning headbutts, right?” The smaller man dares to draw his eyes upward, shocked to see his boyfriend wiping tears of mirth and grief off his face. “Your squad always goes on about how hard-headed you are, but I don’t think even they know the full extent of it.” 

Shiro’s shoulders lightly rise at each breathless chuckle, his voice rising until he’s completely engulfed in the absurd hilarity of the situation he managed to find. Keith takes this opportunity to enjoy how beautiful his boyfriend is while being swept into the humor fizzing through the air. Soon enough they were both grinning and laughing like mad men, absorbing the rare happiness birthed from such a heavy experience.

\-----  
There was once a time Keith thought he could live without fear. One day, he assumed that inhibition and fright would falter, once he possessed the power to control them. He is a man of dignity with a sensitive heart, yet trepidation plagues his current path and shadows his once deep, proud footsteps. A year has passed since this fear has loomed above him, senseless guilt tied to it and anguish lingering not far behind. Two men have caused such drastic changes to Keith’s life, creating devastation within a soul that was mild at most, slightly steamed but never chaotic. 

The first to attribute to the welding of an existence he still cannot believe is his own is his boyfriend. It may seem ironic that his love, his gravity, his world, would somehow play a role in tearing apart his pride. This is only the case because the second man is threatening Keith’s other half, which is a direct assault on him. The thought of losing his stars is almost maddening. It lights far more than a single flame inside his gut but a thousand torches, enticing a feeling of destruction he had yet to experience, until innocent Shiro was thrust into mines. His remarkable lover may have managed to tiptoe around each deadly explosion, but as each one is triggered, two are ready to go off with the next placement of Shiro’s feet. This vile criminal set on hurting Shiro will pay the price for doing so, hopefully with his disgusting head on a spike.

Keith really hopes he can pierce this bastard’s brain and place it on display. It’s not like the precinct would mind. He’s willing to settle on burning the perpetrator, preferably while the monstrous soul still has a beating heart. There’s not much more ground he’s set on compromising past that.

“Keith, stop daydreaming about Shiro and listen to me already! The office is no place to think about whatever you guys were doing last night.” Keith raises his head from his desk to acknowledge Detective Lance, the joker’s hands on his hips in mocking disapproval. The fellow cop’s attempt at patronizing doesn’t last long, the smirk tugging at his lips becoming less restrained with each passing second. The glare Keith rebuttals with only causes Lance to let his grin unzip. It’s after this triumph that the self-proclaimed winner notices the lack of heat in his partner’s eyes, which leads him to the bags underneath them and a fresh bruise coloring his nose. “Man, are you okay? You don’t look too good.”

Normally, Keith would snap at his partner if he’d had a plagued sleep the night before. He wants to get mad, whether it’s true rage or just pointless banter that comes out, but he can’t seem to even force that to the surface. The fire inside Keith refuses to ignite, not a single light flares up to spit a snarky response. There’s absolutely nothing there. His chest is dull and hollow, and it kills him. Before he can manage to reply, a strong voice resonates through the precinct, drawing his and everyone else’s attention.

“Those involved in the Shirogane Takashi case must join me in my office immediately! I know the day’s just begun but your coffee can wait a few ticks.” Captain Allura holds her door open while waiting for the requested officers. Her eyebrows are tightly knit and her fierce eyes narrowed. Anyone can tell that she's perturbed, but most don’t notice that there's more to it than that. Allura’s chin is raised high in an attempt to appear more authoritative, but the trembling of her frown and growing white knuckles as she grips the frame like a strangler show the truth. Only those close to her pick up on it: the “Princess of the Precinct” is worried. Incredibly worried, for she is unable to keep it fully hidden from her squad.

Keith, Lance, Pidge, and Hunk rush into their captain’s office at her call. Coran, her assistant, is already waiting inside, perched at his desk next to Allura’s. His concern is displayed openly. With everyone together, Allura thrusts the door closed, controlling the rapid motion at the last second so that it seals silently. She scowls at the carpet for a moment before allowing herself a sigh. When the captain looks up at them, the whole squad is put on edge at the deepness in her eyes, full of several possible meanings. Considering the circumstances, none of them are optimistic about the news they’re sure to hear. Keith is the least hopeful.

“Everyone, trust me when I say that I understand as much as you how difficult this case has been.” Allura’s eyes glow, rare emotion clearly present in them that are expertly managed during work hours. She nibbles at her lip before shaking her head slightly, her internal conflict manifesting for the others to witness. “No, difficult is far from the right word. This has been utter hell, hasn’t it?” The lack of protest answers Allura perfectly. It’s not like she doesn’t already know it to be true, but the nonverbal agreement brings an odd smile to her face. “Shiro is family, and the monster threatening him will not get away with it! This sick game needs to end now.”

This past year, Shiro has been the victim of harassment, stalking, and assault, as well as two attempted kidnappings. They first began at random, like when on a food run or at the university gym, and then increasing to outside the office Shiro interns at; a verbal threat here and a punch in the face there. The stakes kept rising and rising until the psychologist-in-training was nearly thrown into a sac on campus and another time while in the restroom during a date with Keith. It’s lucky that Shiro is more than capable of defending himself. The men behind these crimes are masked and fully dressed in black, though the altercations never last long enough to determine much else about them. Observant Shiro has stated that the physical build of his attackers has differed multiple times, indicating that they’re being puppeteered by someone. The only other foundation of the case lies within the words uttered and scribbled to Shiro on several occasions, which is that he is a“black lion” of some sorts.

“We know too well about the horrors that have been happening and we still have no idea why,” Allura grunts out, the curl of her lips plainly showing the fury rioting inside. Whenever Shiro is cornered, he fights them off until they have no choice but to flee. The group of three to five vanish in an instant and leave no trace behind other than the marks they inflicted onto their intended target. The worst they’ve done is bruise and cut him, so the good news is that they want him alive and intact. Keith doesn’t gain any relief from that. “I regret to tell you all that this crisis has become much worse.”

With those grave words pushed out of her throat, the captain nods to Coran. The assistant turns his head away as he pulls out a manila folder and slides it across the desk. Allura mechanically extends her arm and drops her hand atop of it. Her nails dig into the thin folder. She drags it forward at a pace that makes the rest of the squad question if she’ll manage to pick it up at all. Once it sits at the edge, it’s contents teetering out of their encasing, Allura snatches up the evidence. The folder crinkles in her forceful grip. Her curiosity is suddenly piqued, finding something fascinating on the wall beside her just as Coran did moments ago. With another sigh, Captain Allura makes brief eye contact with the officers before flipping the cover open.

“These fiends have just made themselves predators, and they’re on the hunt.”

Inside the folder are numerous photos of a naked, bloody man with so many incisions that the detectives give up trying to count them or separate each slash from the other. Everyone can tell in an instant why this unfortunate soul was killed, and all of their stomachs plummet in realization. Keith feels the meager stitches barely keeping his world together breaking apart one by one. 

“We need to find this group before they quit practicing on innocent look-alikes and move onto their real prey.”


	2. No Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the angst commence...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally managed to get this done! I hope you enjoy, and please let me know your thoughts c: I didn't plan to, but ended up throwing in some Allura/Pidge since I love it ;v; I might have subtle moments between the two for the rest of the story, but I'm not sure. What do you guys think? Should I focus on them a little, a lot (not as much as Shiro and Keith of course >w>) or not at all? 
> 
> Here are all of their ages too:
> 
> Shiro- 25  
> Keith- 22  
> Lance- 22  
> Hunk- 22  
> Pidge- 20  
> Allura- 24

Screams choke out of abused, tired lungs, shattering the nighttime peace within the bedroom. They rip the other man from his dreamless sleep, whose heart immediately aches as he begins to force his love out of the internal horrors plaguing his reprieve.

“Please, not again! Come on, you have to wake up,” Keith pleads while nervously digging his nails into Shiro’s shoulders, “Don’t do this to me, I’m not strong like you. I don’t know what to do!” Tears pour down his cheeks like waves, their free fall going unnoticed until some spatter onto Shiro, leaving Keith more frustrated. Despite his cries growing loud enough to engulf Shiro’s uproar, Keith sees no sign of him coming to consciousness. Hysteria claws at the detective’s psyche while he watches his boyfriend thrash and throw his head side to side as if attempting to break it off his neck. After a brief moment of hesitation, Keith screws his eyes shut. He sucks in a breath before delivering a harsh slap to Shiro’s face. When Keith continues to feel the other man quaking in his hold, he pops his eyes open and releases a piercing growl. In a thoughtless, desperate act, he surges forward to meet Shiro’s lips, hoping that his subtle method in comparison to the last would somehow end both of their suffering.

Not a mere five seconds go by until Keith is blessed with a reaction from his lover. Instead of his kiss being returned or something remotely pleasant, Keith’s jaw snaps back with a solid punch from Shiro just as he arises from the nightmare.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Shiro, you know this isn’t your fault, right?”

Keith presses an ice pack against his left cheek. He holds back a whine that comes from slight contact with his wound, focusing his attention on Shiro, who is determined to stare at anything but Keith’s face. Following Shiro’s pacing across their bedroom leaves Keith anxious, but it is the sorrow chipping away at his heart that causes him to reach out his free hand. Shiro freezes half stride when his boyfriend sits a hand atop his wrist, gently holding. Fresh guilt washes over Shiro at the sudden realization of what his mindless, repetitive travels along the floor must’ve been doing to Keith. With an unsteady sigh, the older man grips Keith’s smaller palm and brings it to his lips. A pleasant warmth tingles through Keith’s fingertips. 

“I’d like to think I do, but just knowing that someone was brutalized and killed because he looked like me…” The fissures on his heart that were mending at Shiro’s touch return more painfully with those barely uttered words. Keith slips his fingers free to caress Shiro’s cheek and can’t hold back a tiny smile when his love leans into the touch.

“That’s enough, don’t torture yourself with those kind of thoughts.”

It’s been a week since a man was murdered by the same group targeting Shiro. Whatever the reason behind their attacks, they've gone from being a threatening concern to a dangerous mass of cruel individuals. The only information gained from the violent death is the supposed name of the organization, which was in the message carved into the victim's back: ‘THE GALRA SERVES ONE!’ Other than what was purposely left behind, no evidence was found at the crime scene. It baffled detectives but angered them most of all, for the victim was found dumped in an alleyway carelessly camouflaged by trash bags. Dehumanized and broken, the innocent man’s corpse laid defiled like garbage. Allura’s squad speculated if the placement of his body held its own message. Keith was uncomfortable, to say the least, when he considered what it could mean for Shiro. The thought back in his mind, the detective’s eyelids fall as the damning possibilities consume him.

“Are you going to be okay? I’m supposed to head out soon, but I can take the day off if you need me. Allura would understandー” Keith’s eyes fly open but quickly flutter shut, allowing his worries to dissipate with a silencing kiss from Shiro. He latches onto the taller man and pulls him into an embrace. Biting his lip to hold back tears threatening to resurface, Keith buries his face inside Shiro’s neck. The scent of his boyfriend eases Keith’s rising emotions, calming the fresh wave of fear and pain, leaving only blissful calmness.

“Don’t worry about me,” Shiro whispers against Keith’s ear, “You focus on bringing these criminals in. I don’t have to head to my internship until the afternoon, so I’ll hit the gym and run some errands. Keep myself busy…” The fingers around Keith tighten for a moment before releasing him. Pulling away, Keith catches the solemn frown on Shiro’s face before it morphs into a grin. The grief behind such a forced expression becomes too much for Keith to ignore.

“All right, do a grocery run then. We're out of milk, so don't think you're able to avoid going just because of these ridiculous excuses.” Keith points his chin upwards as he meets Shiro’s gaze, his tone devious and playfully mocking. “You think these nightmares count as actual problems? Please. There's no reason for you to forget, so I expect to come home to an overflowing refrigerator. Got it?” The exaggeration behind each syllable causes small snickers to escape Shiro’s lips, and eventually he offers Keith a salute, along with a bright, genuine smile. The sight makes Keith’s heart race. “What's so funny? I'm completely serious here!”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Keith’s shoulders steadily jump as he becomes less apt at keeping his mirth at bay. While he is far from childish, this little effort put into getting Shiro to feel better sends Keith above the moon. “Of course, Commander Kogane. You can count on me!”

“That's right, Private Takashi! If not, I may have no choice but to boot you from my platoon.”

Keith is unable to contain a snort as Shiro knocks him backwards in a tackle. They tumble onto the bed, a heap of limbs and combined laughter. Rays of the early morning sun seep through the adjacent window, guarding the pair in its protective glaze. No negativity intrudes on their moment of solicitude and endearment. In this brief time, Shiro and Keith are both free.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Pidge is remarkably skilled at a handful of things. Her analytical brain keeps Captain Allura’s squad focused and informed, working in tandem with said captain’s resonating authoritative presence. The only girls of the team are a lethal pair on the job, but outside their field, they don’t quite mesh as smoothly. Although one is a technical savant and the other a natural leader, both Pidge and Allura struggle to form deep relationships beyond earned trust from working deadly cases together. They connect through actions rather than words. This is especially accurate for describing the bond between the two, for it is built from saving their fellow partners’ necks as well as each other’s while on duty. Instead of long, personal discussions, Pidge and her captain draw strength from one another through years of being detectives. They rely on each other more than the rest of the team. It’s simply a known, unspoken truth of the squad. However, a mutual respect for her fellow female teammate is likely as far as their relationship will advance. Probably.

‘We’re just not compatible outside the force.’ Allura resigns herself, dropping her head onto the desk with a finalizing thud. ‘As diplomatic as I like to think I am, anything outside of public service doesn’t come easy to me. Everyone knows how incommodious Pidge can get too.’ Frustration building up inside of her, the captain rips the hair tie out of her neatly wrapped bun and allows it to cascade down freely. Multiple strands fall across Allura’s eyes, partially blinding her. She digs fingernails into her scalp before allowing herself one final moment of self-pity.

“Oh, Katie…”

“Um, yes?”

Everything stops. It’s like the world has become a play, frozen in time, waiting for the actor to carry on. Allura isn’t sure if she can say anything, lines forgotten and struck silent by the anticipating audience. The captain scrambles to shove the betraying hair away from her face, finding Pidge standing in her office doorway. Color sparks along the Allura’s cheeks as she struggles to meet her subordinate’s eyes, holding in a groan of utter misery. The two are silent, both of them calculating what she should do next. Pidge maintains a blank stare for a long while, seemingly an eternity, before speaking up. “What do you need, and why did you just call me that? I told you guys that name is too pretty. Doesn’t suit me, you know?” Nodding far too many times, Allura manages a lopsided smile. 

“Sorry, sorry! My mind doesn’t seem to be functioning properly right now. These morning hours must be getting to me; I’m surprised to see you here this early. You didn’t have to clock in until eight.” Letting out a laugh in hopes of relieving the palpable awkwardness, the captain rushes to tie her locks back into place atop her head. Pidge merely squints in response. “I came in on time with the rest of the crew. It’s, uh, almost eight-thirty right now. I do need to get back to work, so...” 

The captain jumps from her seat at those words. How did so much time manage to pass without her noticing? “Oh, of course! My apologizes, if you couldn’t tell I was lost in a bit of a daze.” Pidge’s unchanging gaze causes Allura to swallow down the sudden lump in her throat, her voice rising and picking up pace. “Anyway, could you send in Keith for me? I need to speak to him before addressing everyone else. Please let the rest of the team know to come into my office at nine.” Cocking her head to the side, Pidge sets her sights from Allura to the empty desk next to the captain’s. With a shrug, she turns to leave. “Fetching people and making announcements seems more like Coran’s job, but I get why you’re asking me since he’s not here yet. I’ll deliver the messages. See you at nine.” Before Allura can begin to thank her, Pidge is already gone. She drops her cracking smile and bangs her head on the desk over and over. By the time Keith walks in, she’d lost count of how many times her forehead drummed against the wood. 

“Allura? Pidge said you needed to talk to me about something.” The detective automatically raises his hands in defense as the captain lifts her face, making no attempt to hide her agitation. Allura is a terrifying force when angry. The whole team has witnessed her incredible rage and they cower at it; Keith has no shame in admitting that. If anything, he’s proud to serve under a captain that is kind, honorable, and scary as hell. Keith wonders if she emulates her father, the previous captain. He would’ve loved to meet the man that raised this headstrong, deadly woman. “Is this a bad time?”

What must be the thousandth sigh of this month leaves Allura’s lips. Her expressions turns neutral before she stands and steps towards him. Each foot on the floor is precise, every stride equal in distance as if balancing on a tightrope. Keith knows his superior to habitually do these sorts of cautious, calculated movements when something heavy is weighing her down.

“I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t let my frivolous personal affairs interfere with work, especially not now,” Allura folds her hands behind her back, dropping her gaze, “The autopsy of our first Gallura victim was delivered this morning. Everyone else will be fully briefed momentarily, but I wanted to share some...specifics with you first.” Taking one final, large step forward, the captain continues to have her eyes locked onto the ground. The rare uncertainty evident in those eyes tells Keith enough about what he’s about to be told. It says far too much; Allura isn’t meant to look so small, and the sheer amount of fear radiating off her puts him on edge. 

“We’re all aware that the man was tortured, that wasn’t exactly difficult to see.” She hesitates another second, then meets the detective's concerned stare with newfound determination. A sudden fire burns bright within Allura’s gaze. Grim hatred has replaced the grief. If Keith wasn’t her co-worker, he’d be in fear for his life. Never has he witnessed so much resentment from his superior, her singular atmosphere a venom, destructive and vengeful.

“Keith, he had been raped.”

In an instant, Allura’s dangerous aura infects Keith like a poison, his vision immediately blurring at the horrid mix of sorrow, confusion, and anger destroying him in one blow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …  
> *hides*


End file.
